… and songs unsung

Archive for January, 2009

The other day I spoke to a cousin of mine after 4 years. We had a major fight 4 years back and ever since then we’ve spoken once. While I would never claim that I am a saint, deep down in my heart I know that she did things that I could not forgive and forget. Families got involved and things got ugly…but thats another story altogether. But I just called her yesterday- just like that- out of the blue.

Few nights ago I dreamt of her… nothing specific- I just kept seeing her fading in and out of my dreams- and when I got up, I knew I had to call her- not because I had forgotten everything that happened but because I felt it was God’s way of showing me a sign, of telling me to mend my relations and build my bridges before it is too late.

I try my best to be a good human being because I sincerely believe that it is in this lifetime itself that we get paid back in our own coin and manifold- so if I dont like people being nasty to me, Im assuming other people feel the same way too. But its only in times when people really near and dear do horrible things just to malign somebody else that I strongly feel and almost scarily start to believe that maybe its not worth it after all.

Another thing that happened recently also shook me up completely. Me and M had recently organised a lunch at home with a large number of our friends- all varied and completely mixed up. Lots of people, lots of food and lots of alcohol- actually too much of it. While everybody was happy and merry, I had got too merry- much more than I could handle and as a result , completely passed out while people were still at home. Seeing me, M also decided to get in a power nap to revive his spirits and naturally crashed out with all the after effects of alcohol. So basically the hosts were down and out while the rest of the gang partied, ate, drank and made merry. Of course, some of our friends are our saviours and just took over the party, serving people food and generally looking after them and after us.

What happened next was the most unbelievable part. When we woke up long after the party was over and came back to our senses the next day, it dawned on us that we were robbed of some amount of cash from the house. Completely shaken up and aghast at what could have happened, we tried putting together pieces of the puzzle, constantly trying to decipher what went wrong and how it could have happened. Some of our friends suggested that it could possible be the maid but I knew that my maid would die a hundred deaths before she even touched or flicked money from the house. She has the keys to my house. And if she wanted she could have flicked things in the last two years that she has been here- but there have been times when she has taken out washed and dried currency notes out of our trousers and returned it to us before even thinking of keeping it for herself.

And she was the one who saw one of our friends taking money out of our purses. She tried barging her way into the room when it was happening, but apparently she wasnt let in. And she didnt know how to tell us because she thought that if she tried to tell us that a friend was robbing, we would never believe her and instead doubt her integrity. Which of course didnt happen and I knew she was saying the truth because a lot of things that heppened in the few days post the lunch just added up to the person who could have taken it. And the worst part is now i know who has taken it but I have no proof that she/he has taken the money out. While my head says its true, my heart doesnt agree.

I have decided to forget the situation, all the time consoling myself that maybe the person needed the money at that point of time and it was a moment of weakness. We all have our moments of weakness and maybe this was his/hers. But what disturbs me tremendously is that its someone I know, someone Im familiar with and someone I could trust before this incident happened. The person concerned also knows deep down somewhere in his/her heart that I know and what i feel about it- was it really worth it? was it worth breaking a vow of friendship knowing that I will never be able to trust him/her again? was it worth giving into vice for that one moment to sour a lifetime of friendship.

This time too I forgive, not because I have forgotten the pain it has caused me but because I give them the benefit of the doubt- maybe it wasnt meant to be like this- maybe he/she really needed the money at that point of time for something urgent… but is it worth it?

I watched Slumdog Millionaire over the weekend. Brilliant!!! The only word that can perhaps describe the movie. I generally don’t go ga-ga over movies and their brilliance (that I have been drooling over Farhan Akhtar ever since “Rock On” happened to my life is a different matter). No, seriously, Slumdog is another genre completely. It is just right…in music, in style, in its length and in its depiction of Mumbai. Nothing that will make you go….”okay…now they are stretching it.” It’s almost like they finish every sequence when they know the audience has understood the message without harping on it endlessly…and that I guess is what is so refreshing about the movie.

And the cast was awesome. While Dev Patel was quite good in his depiction as Jamal, I thought Ayush, the youngest Jamal was a treat to watch. Basing an entire movie on a single contest and yet making it so touching in every scene. While one can call the depiction of poverty-stricken India clichéd and stereo-typical, I think it takes a lot for a foreigner to really touch the pulse of India in a way that no Indian director has ever been able to do.

Why I really write this post is not because I wanted to do a review of the film but because what I saw on television last night irked me to no end. While the entire country was rejoicing the movie’s terrific win at the Golden Globes, one particular news channel kept harping on the fact whether we should be so ecstatic considering the movie was not made by an Indian director. “How Indian is Slumdog Millionaire” was the question they kept asking for viewers to respond. While I am very proud of the fact that A.R. Rahman has won a Golden Globe for the movie, it really doesn’t take a Golden Globe to know that this guy is amazing. A.R. Rahman has sold more albums than Elvis Presley and Michael Jackson. I am happy he’s done it and put us on the global scenario but that doesn’t mean one should doubt whether the movie can be called Indian or not. It is about India but it is not made by an Indian. Does this mean that we can’t appreciate it? Just by having Indian actors and an Indian Co-Director doesn’t make the film Indian. And just by being Non- Indian doesn’t take away from the brilliance of the film or make us less proud of it. For once, lets be proud of something that is brilliant and well made without debating whether it is Indian, foreign, Islamic. For once, lets just cut out the jingoism and appreciate something that is so worth appreciation.